


The Binding

by falindis



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Calling Sauron 'Thauron', Come Eating, Come Inflation, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hair-pulling, Horror, Humiliation, Implied past Celegorm/Oromë, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Mind Control, No happy endings, Nothing is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Psychopaths In Love, Rough Sex, Sauron pulls a Gorlim, Sexual Slavery, Size Difference, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Spitroasting, Taken Prisoner, Thangorodrim Rescue Gone Wrong, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27514612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falindis/pseuds/falindis
Summary: ‘“You shall remain nameless, then”, the Dark Lord continued. “Fitting, for that is all you are from now on. Nothing but a nameless thrall. You shall serve, you shall break, and you shall serve again, until the day of your death. Make no mistake, you shall die here.’This is a dark AU, in which Fingon never rescues Maedhros from Thangorodrim. Instead it is Celegorm. Little does he know he has been lured into a trap by Morgoth and his cruelest servant, who are infamous for their tastes for the joys of the flesh.A.K.A: a self-indulgent Angbang sandwich, with Celegorm in between.
Relationships: Celegorm | Turcafinwë/Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor, Celegorm | Turcafinwë/Sauron | Mairon, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon/Celegorm |Turcafinwë
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	The Binding

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the tags before reading this fic. This is extremely twisted, evil and non-con in every possible way, including a lot of material that some readers might find disturbing. I chose not to use Archive Warnings to not spoil some details of the fic, but you can safely assume that whatever can go wrong, goes wrong, there is no happy ending for anyone (except Melkor & Sauron), and that there's a lot of heavy sexual content ahead. So, if you read the "Dead Dove, Do Not Eat" sign and still are surprised to find a dead dove in your bag... well.
> 
> The heavy smut starts around the 2nd scene: if you are here only for that, skip to the three stars.

“I should never have come here”, Celegorm said to himself as he snuck across the Angfauglith, blinking dust from his stinging eyes. The peaks of the Thangorodrim jutted ominously ahead of him, their noxious odors burning as they entered his nose and mouth. The dark smoke they spewed drowned out the sun, plunging the land into endless, twilight gloom. Only the red glow of their peaks guided Celegorm forward, leading him towards the one place in the world where he did not want to be.

“Why do I do this?” he spoke to himself again, briefly questioning his sanity. He had always been a loner, more comfortable on a long hunt than in a bustling crowd, but this was a different kind of loneliness. The darkness of Angband seemed to suck the joy out of him, along with every coherent thought. He simply kept pushing forward, the words of his brothers echoing in his ears.

“Bring him back to us”, Maglor had said.

Curufin had squeezed Celegorm’s hand. “If anyone can find our brother, it is you.”

They were all counting on him, now. He could not fail.

The fumes grew thicker and the shadows deeper as Celegorm entered the foot of the first mountain. He could already see the gates of Angband from there, like a gaping, fiery maw in the side of the mountain. Yet he was too far for sentinels to spot, and his steps on the ashy ground were light as air. He had bathed in that dust earlier that day, camouflaging himself, even rubbing it onto his face and hair. It would take very keen eyes to spot him, and even then, they might only mistake him for a rock or a pile of sand.

It was there where Celegorm first heard the sound of singing.

First, he thought he was only imagining it. For this was no orc battle-cry, not the harsh consonants of their ugly tongue. It flowed and rippled like water, beautiful and sad alike. This was Celegorm’s mother’s tongue. The voice that was singing was male, low yet harmonious, and Celegorm would have recognized it even in his dreams.

Hope lit in his chest like a beacon.

For a moment Celegorm dropped all urgency, dashing towards the sound like a parched man to water. With every step the sound came closer, drawing him in, luring. It echoed from the side of the mountain, leading him onto a tall, vertical rock face, where a familiar figure hung from the rockside, suspended in the air, his right arm attached onto a metal chain. His red hair was short, and his body stripped and pale, freckled skin covered with blemishes. Yet his voice was still the same, tired yet hopeful, like some lost prayer to the Lady of Mercy.

“Maitimo”, Celegorm breathed. Tears were in his eyes, and not only from the fog.

“Brother”, Maedhros replied, his hazy gaze turning towards Celegorm. There was something strange in the color of his eyes, like a sheet of oil shimmering above water. “Help me.”

Celegorm drew his bow, observing the rock face. Maedhros was up high, far higher than Celegorm could reach, but if he aimed his arrow true, it could be enough to cut the chain. Celegorm would only need to catch him.

“Hold on”, Celegorm said. “I will get you down.”

“Hurry…” Maedhros croaked. Even his voice sounded strange, distorted, as if through a tunnel. Celegorm had not heard it when he sang, but he could hear it now. “It hurts…”

“Tulkas, give me strength”, Celegorm said, as he shrugged off the feeling and aimed his bow.

“Oromë, guide my aim”, he breathed, pulling the string backwards, all the way down to his cheek.

“Oh Manwë to whom all birds are dear, speed now this feathered shaft, and recall some pity for the Noldor in their need!”

Release. The arrow sped through the air like a bird, aiming straight for the metal chain. Celegorm did not wait and see whether it struck true. He simply ran.

There was a _clang._ A cry.

Celegorm leaped forwards. Held out his hands.

The body of Maedhros fell into his arms, and they crashed together onto the ground. Maedhros’ body felt feather-light, almost weightless, as if all his strength had left his _hröa._ Celegorm embraced him and cradled him in his arms.

“Oh, Nelyo”, Celegorm whispered, tears streaming from his eyes. “I am here now. You are safe.”

Maedhros let out a small sound, his body shuddering. First, Celegorm thought he was crying as well. The sobs shook his chest, rumbling out of his mouth.

But something was wrong. There were no tears. Maedhros did not weep.

He laughed.

“Oh, my poor Turcafinwë”, Maedhros spoke, in a voice that was not his own. It was low and gravelly, like stone scraping against stone. Like a crackling fire. “How touching.”

“What?” Celegorm said, looking at Maedhros through the veil of tears. There was something different in him again – his hair, previously the shade of copper, seemed lighter now, more vibrant – the color of honey and amber, the edges tipped with flame. His entire body felt hot, almost painfully so. Celegorm cried out and scrambled away.

“What is wrong, son of Fëanor?” that terrible voice asked again. Maedhros’ face – or what was _not_ his face – smiled at him, but his eyes were wrong. They were red and bright and _burning._ His pupils were slit like a cat’s. “Do you not know me?”

“Thauron”, Celegorm choked out as he recognized those terrible eyes. They bored down into his body like a brand, impaling him, cutting him, flaying him naked down to the bone.

“Yes”, Thauron sounded almost delighted. There was no trace of Maedhros there now – Celegorm could not understand how he had ever made that mistake. It had been nothing but a mirage. Pretend.

“Where is Maedhros?” Celegorm asked, voice shaking. “Where is my brother?”

Thauron reached out a scalding-hot hand, pressing onto Celegorm’s cheek like a hot coal. Celegorm screamed again.

“Very well”, Thauron said even as Celegorm writhed in his grip, “if that is what you truly want, I shall take you to him.”

The pain made Celegorm’s vision go white. His screams turned to quiet sobs.

At last Thauron let go of his hand.

 _“Burzum”,_ he commanded. His burning eyes were the last thing Celegorm saw before the darkness.

* * *

Celegorm woke up to being dragged.

His body felt heavy as a rock. His feet hung uselessly below him, scraping against the stone tile below. There was a pain below his shoulders, from where he hung to his captor – a tall man dressed in black and red, with flaming hair and eyes to match.

_Thauron._

“Wh…where…”

“Shh”, Thauron cooed, almost gently, without breaking his purposeful stride. Considering how heavy Celegorm’s body must have been, Thauron carried him with surprising effort. As if he weighed nothing at all. “Do not attempt to speak. You will waste your strength.”

A darkness hung to the edges of Celegorm’s vision, thickening, threatening to pull him under. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and to succumb to it. But he could not. _Would_ not. He would fight.

He strained against Thauron’s grip, but it was of no use. He could not move a finger. Only through great effort was he able to speak, and even then, his voice was weak as a whisper.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To your brother, as you requested”, Thauron replied. His footsteps echoed onto a stop as he arrived to a pair of great, iron doors, which he opened with the flick of his wrist. The doors grated and screeched as they swung wide, letting a trickle of light onto the hallway. The light was of strange color, pure white yet effervescent, as if it held every conceivable color within. Although it seemed to come from far away, it was remarkably bright. And cold.

And as Thauron took the first steps onto the massive chamber, Celegorm could see him _smile._

“My faithful lieutenant”, boomed a voice from the back of the chamber – a tectonic rumble, a rolling thunder. “What have you brought me this time?”

Thauron’s expression unsettled Celegorm. This was no longer a mocking grin, a twitch of the lips. This was genuine glee. “A valuable prize, lord. A spawn of Fëanor, come to rescue his brother.”

There was the sound of a rockfall, an earthquake. It took a moment for Celegorm to understand that it was _laughter._ It circled the chamber as Celegorm was pulled past twisted, dark columns, towards that intense, white light. It shone out of the darkness like a star – no, _three_ stars, next to each other, so bright that it burned. Yet Celegorm almost felt _drawn_ towards it, unable to avert his gaze.

“A true honor”, the booming voice continued, mockingly, “to have such an esteemed guest within my halls.”

Celegorm squinted his eyes as Thauron dragged him even closer to the light, until they were close enough to make out the details revealed by it. A massive, dark structure of rock, through which glowing veins ran like rivers of lava. _A throne._

And among that throne, that interplay of shadow and light, an enormous figure sat.

He was the source of both the light and darkness in the room. Humanoid, he seemed, but grey-skinned and wreathed in shadows and smoke, which coiled around his body like a horde of serpents. The three lights on his forehead blazed, set neatly in a row among a spike-tipped iron crown.

The Oath rang in Celegorm’s blood like a song.

“Morgoth”, he gasped.

The Dark Enemy curled his lips into a smile, flashing a row of razor-sharp teeth. Or perhaps it was a grimace. Celegorm could not quite tell.

“Such disrespect”, Morgoth spoke, his voice a hundred knifes scraping against rock. “Scold him, lieutenant.”

Celegorm had no chance to react before he felt the white-hot sting of a slap against his cheek. The force of the strike threw Celegorm’s head around, nearly knocking the teeth from his mouth. That was followed by the cold, hard impact of stone against Celegorm’s side, as he was flung onto the floor. The taste of iron flooded his tongue. Blood spattered onto the tiles.

“Insolent _wretch”,_ Thauron hissed onto Celegorm’s ear, his breath burning. His voice shook with a rage and passion that made Celegorm’s skin prickle. “I should cut out your tongue. You stand in the presence of Melkor, the Elder King, Lord of All, Master of the Fates of Arda. You are nothing but a _worm_ compared to him.”

Celegorm grinded his teeth, swallowing the pain. “Fuck you.”

To Celegorm’s surprise, Thauron did not hit him again. He simply laughed darkly – the thought clearly aroused him. “Perhaps I will.”

Bile rose in Celegorm’s throat.

“Enough games”, Morgoth spoke, turning his full attention onto Celegorm. The light of the Silmarili pulled at Celegorm like an anchor, forcing him to lift his gaze and meet Morgoth’s eye. His stare was bright and blue, twin flames that both scorched and froze. Just looking at it hurt. Celegorm saw _things_ in there, flashes like dark lightning, cracks in the very fabric of reality. It was like looking into the Void.

“Tell me your name, Fëanorion”, Morgoth commanded.

Celegorm blinked tears from his eyes. “No.”

With a growl like a rockslide, Morgoth released Celegorm from the grip of his gaze. A physical weakness washed over Celegorm’s body. He crashed back onto the tiles, heaving for air, as if he had been drowning.

“You shall remain nameless, then”, the Dark Lord continued. “Fitting, for that is all you are from now on. Nothing but a nameless thrall. You shall serve, you shall break, and you shall serve again, until the day of your death. Make no mistake, you shall die here. Just like him.”

Suddenly Morgoth looked upwards, turning the light of his crown towards the endless, dark heights above him. But although the ceiling had first seemed empty, Celegorm could now see that it was not so. Behind Morgoth’s head, there hung a metal chain from which a body dangled like a ragdoll, pale and limp and _lifeless._ It almost did not resemble a body at all – horribly mangled and twisted out of recognition. His once-red hair had been cut and his clothes stripped; his now naked corpse criss-crossed with welts and scars, with burns and cuts both old and new. Dried blood had clotted between his legs, the skin below stretched too tightly above jutting bones. Where his eyes had been there were only two, gaping holes, and his mouth was still twisted in a silent scream. But the worst sight of all was the mess that had been his abdomen – now violated with words carved in loopy Tengwar script.

 _KING OF WHORES,_ it said.

“Poor, poor Maitimo”, Morgoth lamented. “Such beauty. Such talent. Shame that it was limited to nothing but bedplay.”

Celegorm froze. In shock. In disgust. In _denial._ The body up there was _not_ Maitimo. It was nothing but an illusion, a trick. Just like Thauron had tricked him before.

“You should have heard his screams”, Thauron added. “It is exquisite how long a person can keep screaming, before the screams turn to sobs.” Then, to Celegorm’s horror, Thauron’s voice transformed into Maitimo’s voice, mimicking it perfectly. _“Help me, Káno. Help me. Moryo, Curvo, Telvo… anyone… please, Tyelko! Save me!”_

“Stop”, Celegorm pleaded, although he knew it would be of no use. “That is not true!”

“Oh, but it is. I know how low he was willing to go. He even offered his body for us, in the end. Can you imagine? The king of the Noldor, down on his knees, begging for cock.”

Celegorm wanted to vomit.

“He enjoyed it, you know. Being Angband’s little plaything, nothing more than a fucktoy. You would be amazed in how many cocks he could take. We indulged him, of course. Filled him until there was nothing left to fill. He was a king, after all.”

“You are sick”, Celegorm’s voice shook with rage. “I will _kill_ you for this.”

“You may try, although it would be futile. You would lose.”

_“Try me.”_

Thauron laughed, tilting Celegorm’s chin to the side, as if to observe that part of his face better. “I like this one. He has spirit.”

“Yes”, Morgoth agreed, “but not for long. Bind him.”

Thauron dropped his fingers and said a single word. _“Krimp.”_

Celegorm felt as if he had been struck with an arrow. His whole body went rigid, all the way down to his spine. He tried to move, but none of his muscles were working. Only his eyes still stirred.

“How would you have him, my lord?” Thauron asked.

“On his knees.”

“Yes, master.”

There was a tug in Celegorm’s mind, and his muscles began to move out of their own accord, spine bending, legs giving out beneath him. He did not resist. Thauron molded him like a doll.

Morgoth hummed in contentment. “Come to me, little prince.”

Celegorm fell to his hands and knees and began to crawl forward.

Inside, he screamed.

*

As the throne room of Angband echoed with the snap of knees against stone, Sauron grinned with glee.

It was astounding – ridiculous, even, how easy a mind was to invade.

Most minds were unguarded, see, like houses with their doors unlocked, treasures in their tombs left unattended. It was simply a matter of stepping in. Some did not resist at all. Some did, but Sauron liked that. Resistance provided challenge. Challenge stimulation. Without it, everything was meaningless.

For those who resisted, the invasion caused pain. Internal agony caused by the disconnection of the _fëa_ and the _hröa._ Some it would drive mad. Others… well, you could say that they never were quite the same, afterwards. For most the invasion would be so traumatic they would simply become dull, catatonic. Nothing more than fleshy sacks that were empty inside.

Sauron did not like that. He preferred to see them _suffer._

And oh, how Celegorm did.

Sauron saw it in the spasm of the elf’s muscles that he could no longer control. In the contortions on his face as he tried to scream, but no sound came out. He _heard_ it, too, a shrill cry in the back of his mind, felt it tug at the tether that was tied between them. A leash, one could call it, although Sauron did prefer a physical one. Perhaps he would give the elf one, if he behaved badly enough. Well-behaved dogs needed no leashes.

“Closer, yes”, Melkor hummed, the deepness of his voice echoing in Sauron’s very _fëa._ Celegorm crawled forward, until he was only inches from Melkor’s leg. Then Melkor lifted a hand. “Stop. Show respect to your lord. Bow to me.”

Gritting his teeth, Celegorm bended lower, until his forehead kissed the floor. His whole body trembled.

“Very good. But I would prefer to look upon your face.”

Celegorm lifted his gaze – still grimacing. As his eyes met Melkor’s once more, the screaming in Sauron’s mind intensified. The elf’s _fëa_ strained, fought, a bird struggling to escape its cage.

“What a delightful slave”, Melkor said. “Very pretty.”

Celegorm’s grimace deepened, the twitching on his face almost uncontrollable now. Tears were leaking from his eyes. Sauron could see that he wanted to protest, to tell that he was _not_ a slave, but the tether did not budge. Unless Sauron released him – which he would not unless Melkor ordered to – he could do nothing but _obey._ He was bound to Sauron’s will, to his every desire, which through the binding of _fëar_ was Melkor’s will also. If Sauron told the elf to lift his arm, he would do so. If he told him to strip all his clothes and prostrate himself like a dog, he would do so. He would even bark.

“What do you think of him, Mairon?” Melkor asked.

“If he is anything like his brother, he will make a good playmate. But outside that… I doubt his usefulness.”

“Let us make sure of that, then?” Melkor patted at the side of the throne beside him. “Come. Sit.”

“My lord…” Sauron felt his _fëa_ flare at the attention, “it would be my honor.”

He clambered onto the throne, taking his seat on Melkor’s right, so close that he could feel the coldness emanate from his body. Sauron leaned towards him, breathing his smoky icy scent, quivering with want and anticipation.

“Is he to your liking, master? If you wish, I can make him docile, meek. To hunger for your cock, thirst for your cum. Although I would prefer to see him _writhe.”_

“My little sadist”, Melkor growled with want, burying his hand in Sauron’s hair. Sauron arched into the touch, gasping. “It is no wonder they call you the Cruel.”

Melkor leaned over for a hungry kiss, and Sauron responded to it, opening his mouth and letting Melkor’s tongue invade it. Like everything else in Melkor’s body, it was abnormally large and long, and if Sauron would have needed air, he would have choked. Sauron allowed Melkor to tongue-fuck him a while longer, until the Dark Vala seemed to remember that they were not alone. He detached from the kiss, turning his attention back onto Celegorm, who was still waiting on his knees.

Melkor hummed thoughtfully. “Although I would love to hear him crying for the comfort of his father, I believe I have already had enough of that. But to _debase_ him, to utterly deprave him of his dignity… what would Fëanor think of that, seeing two of his sons turned willing slaves?”

“He would be enraged, my lord.”

“Yes.” Melkor’s mouth curled with twisted glee. “Perhaps, once we are done with this one, we shall capture the rest of his kin, to take them all one by one.”

At those words Celegorm’s eyes widened with horror. Sauron grew stiffer at the sight, drinking in his fear and anger. They would _destroy_ him.

 _“Snaga”,_ Sauron spoke.

At the word, Celegorm’s body went limp like a fish. He crashed onto the tile, boneless, staring into nothingness. For a moment he simply lay there, still as a corpse.

And then, he began to twitch.

It began in his toes and fingers, miniscule movements that grew into bigger ones. His hands shook now, then his legs, until his whole body was trembling. A visible sweat broke onto his skin. He began to pant and whimper.

Sauron almost felt pity for the elf. The beginning was always the worst. He would be painfully hard now, so aroused that it struck the air from his lungs. His mind would be consumed by it, with every possible thought gone, save for the desire for cock.

“Please…” Celegorm whined thinly, gasping for breath, “please…”

“Please what?” Sauron asked.

“Fuck me…”

Melkor’s face lit with a dark glee. “You are going to have to beg better than that.”

“Please…” Celegorm tilted his hips upwards, rocking them futilely against nothing. “My lord.”

_“Master.”_

“Master!” Celegorm cried out now, running his hands across his body, touching himself to ease the pain. “Please, master, I can’t take it anymore… fuck me now, please!”

“A polite little slave”, Melkor hummed. “Very well, then. Undress yourself.”

Celegorm practically tore his garments off, ripping his shirt and nearly stumbling over in the process. It was not a beautiful sight – but what lay underneath was. He had the body of a warrior, tall and lithe, the curves of his muscles sleek and strong, accentuated by the sheen of sweat. A pretty flush spread all the way from his neck to his chest and down to his plump cock. He was well-endowed for an elf, although what lay between his thighs was his most intriguing part.

“Turn around”, Melkor ordered.

Celegorm did a proper spin, then arching his back to fully display his well-muscled behind.

“Fair… as far as mortals go”, Melkor sneered, his lips curling in distaste. “You shall have to do. Come here, slave.”

Celegorm sauntered over to Melkor, his cock bouncing prettily at each stride, until he arrived to the foot of the throne. There he paused for a moment. In this form, Melkor was at least three times his size, sitting so high that Celegorm would need to climb to reach him. That did not stop the elf, however. He latched onto Melkor’s shin, thick as a tree-trunk, and began to drag himself upwards, humping against the Dark Lord’s leg as he did so. Just to amuse himself, Melkor kicked and shrugged him off, forcing him to begin the climb all over again. And again.

“You are cruel”, Sauron whispered into Melkor’s ear, dragging his fingers along the Dark Vala’s neck. “Have we not humiliated him enough?”

“Do not toy with me, lieutenant”, Melkor answered, watching with twisted satisfaction as Celegorm struggled against his leg. “I know you love this.”

“You know me too well, my lord.”

At last, Melkor allowed the elf to climb the full way onto his knee, from where he heaved himself onto the Vala’s thigh. There, Melkor wrapped his enormous hand around the elf – so big that it covered his entire back. Celegorm’s cock twitched at the touch, already leaking pearly drops of precum, and he let out a pitiful whine.

“So needy”, Melkor noted, chiding the elf with a click of his tongue. “So _loud._ Perhaps you should put that mouth to better use.”

Melkor’s hands moved to unwrap the folds of his robe, first revealing his bare, massive chest, gray and hard as a stone, after which the curves of his hips followed, flawlessly angled and chiseled, perfection made flesh. Finally, springing out from between his legs, tall and proud and as large as the elf’s arm, came his cock. Just the sight of it made Celegorm’s jaw fall open. Sauron shared his sentiment.

Celegorm was a lucky, lucky elf indeed. Few had the chance to be fucked by a god.

“Suck”, Melkor ordered.

Celegorm obliged, crawling further into Melkor’s lap until he was settled in between the Vala’s legs. Then, with surprising expertise, he wrapped his hands around Melkor’s cock, and began to stroke him off. Melkor’s cock was so large that the task required two hands, and even then, the fingers did not fully wrap around it. So Celegorm joined in with his tongue, running it along the shaft, suckling gently at the boulder-sized stones. He could not fit the cock wholly into his mouth at first – only the tip stretched his lips to his limits – but the tether around his mind urged him onwards, even when his body was at its limits. Grunting with pain and effort, he finally managed to wrap his lips fully around the head.

Through their mental bond, Melkor’s pleasure hit Sauron like a blow, nearly expelling the air from his lungs. He drew a sharp breath through his teeth, gripping Melkor’s arm so tight his fingernails dug crescents into the skin. “Nnhh… you have… done this before, elf?”

“Yes, master”, Celegorm mumbled against Melkor’s cock. “The Vala Oromë—”

He was interrupted by Melkor’s booming laughter. “Oromë? Well, well. He is even more debased than I thought.” Suddenly Melkor took hold of Celegorm’s head and _shoved,_ pushing the elf deeper down onto his cock.

Celegorm gagged at the sudden intrusion, his eyes bulging and watering as he strained for breath. The outlines of Melkor’s cock were clearly visible against his throat, as he began to violently convulse and cough. Yet Melkor only pressed him down deeper.

“Yes”, Melkor appraised. “Take it all, like you took him, whore.”

Drool leaked from Celegorm’s mouth, mixing in with his tears. For a moment Sauron was afraid Melkor might break the elf, like he did with so many of his toys. But just as Sauron was planning to tell his master to stop, the elf stopped spasming and opened his throat wider, sinking further onto Melkor’s cock. He was nearly halfway in, now – an achievement that very few could accomplish.

Sauron almost felt _proud._ This is how he knew his binds were working. Once he got past the shakes, Celegorm began lapping and sucking at Melkor’s cock like he was born to do it, like this was his sole task in life. It was as if he didn’t need air at all. Only occasionally did he come up for air, and even then, they were only short gasps, before he sunk down again, deeper than before. Celegorm was a vision – his shiny, long hair falling in silver curtains in front of his flushed, tear-stricken face – his fair, wet eyelashes almost glowing in the light from the Silmarili. Below him, Melkor grumbled with a base, animalistic pleasure, which made the earth beneath him quake.

As Melkor began to thrust deep into the slave’s willing throat, Sauron took his fingers to Melkor’s nipples, circling, rubbing and _twisting,_ adding to his master’s pleasure. Their _fëa_ bond almost burned with need, and although untouched himself, Sauron could feel the approach of an impending orgasm building deep within his stomach. Melkor’s thrusts grew violent, more erratic, with the sloppy, wet sounds of suckling only driving him onward.

But he did not want to come yet.

“Stop”, Melkor ordered, lifting one, blackened hand.

The elf obeyed almost immediately. He stopped his suckling, sliding up from Melkor’s cock and releasing it with a filthy _pop._ Ropes of drool and pre-cum hung from his mouth as he lifted his head, looking at Melkor with wide, wet eyes. Maybe, somewhere there Sauron could see shame the utter debasement brought him. But mostly there was confusion. And disappointment.

“Master?” Celegorm asked – _moaned,_ like a neglected puppy. His cock still twitched uselessly against Melkor’s thigh, so painfully hard it was almost purple at the tip. A pitiful sight. Pathetic, even.

“That is enough”, Melkor said. “Mairon, take him. But only for a moment.”

Although Sauron knew this to be but a crumb of Melkor’s attention, he embraced it to the fullest. He held out his hands and allowed the elf to scramble onto his lap, where he sat dutifully. A pit too phlegmatic for Sauron’s liking – there was no struggle at all – but his body was warm and slick against his, and Sauron could feel his arousal building again. He purred as he nuzzled his head in Celegorm’s neck, beneath his fair hair and to nibble at his pointed ear. Sauron teased at the elf’s throat with the sharp edges of his canines but did not draw blood. That was for Melkor only.

“What shall we do with him next, my lord?”

“Prepare him”, Melkor said as he stood up to his full height from his throne, magnificent and tall, like a mountain of ice and ash. Melkor took his cock into his massive hand, beginning to stroke himself as he watched. “Well? Get to it.”

Sauron grinned and obeyed. Slowly, almost obscenely, he began to suckle at his own fingers, not breaking eye contact with Melkor for the entire time. He made sure to make a show out of it, to display just how dedicated he was towards his master. He moistened each digit dutifully, until his hand was practically _dripping_ with spit, and then he took it between the slave’s muscular thighs, spreading him wide open.

“Mmmh”, Sauron murmured as his forefinger sunk into the warm tight heat between Celegorm’s buttocks. The Maia flared his _fëa,_ transmitting the feeling towards Melkor through their bond, and Melkor grunted in similar pleasure. Sauron sunk a second digit in, and Celegorm whined too, high and ragged.

“You like that, pet?” Sauron crooned, twisting his fingers _just so_ that they hit the elf’s sweet spot. “You like being fingered like a good slut?”

“Yes… m…master…”

“Good pet”, Sauron praised, slapping Celegorm’s flank and making him moan. “Howl for me.”

With a sound that could have put Sauron’s wolves to shame, the Celegorm lifted his head and howled, long and high. Laughing with delight, Sauron struck him again, and again, until his ass was as flushed as his face and his chest. The elf yelped each time.

“Depraved mutt”, Sauron growled, taking hold of the slave’s hair and _pulling,_ watching in arousal as the veins in his craning neck pulsed. He added a third finger onto his ass, pumping his hand mercilessly in and out. “You were Oromë’s little pet, were you not? Riding on his steed as well as his cock. Perhaps I should give you pretty ears and a tail. Fuck you like an animal.”

“Aah… ahhhh…”

“What is that? You would like that? You would, you dirty dog. The thought makes you hard. Makes you want to come.”

“Y…yes. I want to come, master!”

Sauron turned his gaze back to Melkor, whose gaze was bright with blue-hot want. Then he smiled. “Come, then. Let us taste the depth of your desire.”

With a single, ruthless thrust, Sauron added the remainder of his fingers, shoving them straight into the depths of the slave’s wet ass. Celegorm cried out, his body arching against nothing as his release hit him like a wave. It struck him in several, relentless torrents, each of them wrecking his body in almost painful-looking shakes. Cum spurted out of him in thick, white arcs, splattering onto the dark, empty throne. Sauron closed his eyes and breathed in his release like the sweetest scent. The throne room shuddered with Melkor’s orogenic rumble, as the Vala nearly reached his own climax.

Celegorm was still shaking even after he had stopped coming, writhing out of drawn-out pleasure and overstimulation. Yet Sauron did not stop fingering him – in fact, he only increased his pace. The elf’s moans turned into sobs.

“Look at the mess you have made”, Sauron snarled. “Clean it up.”

Ungracefully, Sauron pulled his fingers out and shoved Celegorm back onto the center of the throne, forcing his head downwards.

“Lick it.”

After a moment’s pause, almost like hesitation, the elf’s tongue slipped out and began lewdly lapping at the throne. The cum was everywhere, coating the stone in pearly, white spatters. Yet he licked at it diligently – or as diligently as he could.

“You missed a spot”, Sauron mocked, pushing Celegorm’s head even lower, until his face was pressed against the stone. “Sloppy, but what else could one expect from a hound?”

Melkor gave a mocking snort of laughter. “That is clean enough, slave.” His gaze then turned towards Sauron. “It is time that we enjoy him properly.”

“We, my lord?”

“Yes. We. You can have his mouth.”

Sauron’s eyes lit with delight, and he bowed his head in reverence. It was rare for Melkor to share his toys, and each time he did was an honor. “This is a great gift.”

Melkor held his gaze for a while, with surprising affection. For a moment Sauron forgot that they were not alone, that there were others in this world beside them. Beneath Melkor’s eyes everything fell away.

Then, the moment broke, and Melkor shifted his attention back to Celegorm.

“Spread your legs”, he commanded.

Celegorm obeyed. He settled on the edge of the throne and spread his thighs as wide as he could, holding position on his knees. Meanwhile, Sauron took his place on Melkor’s throne. He had been hard for a while, so once he pulled his robes aside, his cock was already leaking with precum. At the sight, _something_ lit up in the slave’s eyes. At his current state, he was unlikely to feel anything but desire, but Sauron liked to imagine that it was fear. The thought made his cock twitch.

“Open your mouth”, Sauron said. Celegorm did so, lowering his head until he took Sauron around his lips, making the lieutenant hiss. Celegorm’s mouth was still loose after his rough treatment by Melkor, but he still felt warm and wet and _exquisite,_ his tongue lapping and cheeks hollowing as he began his suckle.

Meanwhile, Melkor had positioned himself at Celegorm’s ass, teasing the elf’s entrance with the head of his cock. Even with all the preparation, it would be a tight stretch – Sauron knew it from experience. The elf would be lucky if he could walk tomorrow. The binding made him unable to express his discomfort, but he could not still fully inhibit the impulses of his _hröa_. Celegorm’s whole body around Sauron’s cock went tense as Melkor pushed the first inches into his ass, stretching him wider than ever before. The elf whimpered and began to shake, his legs quivering and face contorting with the pain of being so violently invaded.

“So good”, Melkor grunted. “So _tight…”_

Celegorm had fully stopped suckling now, all of his concentration faded into agony. Tears had begun to leak again from his eyes, and his breathing came shallow and quick. Melkor did not relent, however. Inch by inch he dug deeper into the elf’s rectum, as far as he could go with ease.

And then, he pressed even deeper. Celegorm sobbed against Sauron’s cock, and were that if he still had his mind, he would have cried and begged, screamed himself hoarse.

But he could not. He could simply moan in pleasure as Melkor pulled out of his ass only to pound into it again, harder than before. Celegorm’s body had grown slack now, tired, and he was dripping drool all over Sauron’s cock. Sauron had to slap him to keep him in his wits, and finally the slave seemed to remember his task, going back to pleasuring the Maia with his mouth. Sauron drew a ragged breath, keening into the touch; allowing Celegorm to do the work for him, until he grew bored of the pace and began to fuck the slave’s throat.

With every thrust into his ass and mouth, Celegorm made a wet, gurgling sound, urging Sauron’s pleasure even higher. He petted the elf’s face almost affectionately, sliding his hands to the back of the head and _pushing_ it downwards, before lifting his eyes to meet Melkor’s stare once more. The Vala had begun thrusting properly now, his balls slapping wetly against the elf’s buttocks, massive cock sinking deep into that pliant, twitching hole. Melkor’s lips were curled into a snarl, his razor-sharp teeth glinting in the light, and the sight alone was almost enough to make Sauron come undone.

“Worthless fucking slut”, Melkor growled in tune with his thrusts, “prince of the Noldor turned into nothing but a hole for us to fuck.”

“Make us come”, Sauron urged Celegorm on, “let us breed you like the bitch you are.”

Melkor’s eyes burned as they met Sauron’s own, and through the three-way bond, all the sensations mixed into one. Melkor’s merciless pistoning into Celegorm’s hole, the elf’s lips and tongue swirling around Sauron’s cock, the sensation of being fucked into two holes at once – and like a shock of thunder, the crash of a wave, that pleasure all coalesced into one. Sauron came harder than he had ever come before, gushing cum into Celegorm’s throat with such magnitude and force that the elf nearly choked on it. Melkor came almost immediately later, groaning so loud it shook all of Angband. The edges of his cock pulsed against Celegorm’s lower belly as he released _pump_ after _pump_ of his load into the slave’s ass. They kept coming together, master and lieutenant, even their releases perfectly synchronized. Melkor’s lasted somewhat longer – even after Sauron had finished, he was still filling Celegorm with cum.

Finally, Melkor pulled out, releasing the remaining ropes of his cum onto Celegorm’s back and buttocks. He pulled backwards to admire his work, and Sauron did the same, taking his former place on the handhold of Melkor’s throne.

“Look at you”, Sauron said, running his fingers along Celegorm’s splattered back, then taking his fingers to Celegorm’s ruined ass, which was gaping wide and leaking cum. “So _full._ I think we filled you to the brim. Perhaps we should plug you up the next time, make you keep it all in. Until we feed you more, of course.”

“Yes”, Celegorm croaked, his voice hoarse of all the fucking his throat had endured. “Master.”

“Good.” Sauron gave the slave’s ass one last, affectionate spank. Such a pretty prize. Sauron would adorn him with gold and rings.

Melkor drank in the sight, lust still shimmering behind his gaze. Yet, another kind of need had arisen there now, and that did not involve the elf. “Now, get down.”

“M…master?” Celegorm asked, his cock still hard. “What about…”

“You?” Melkor asked scornfully. “No. We have grown tired of you for today. Perhaps later, if you show yourself to be useful.”

Celegorm lowered his head, lip trembling, but did not protest as he slid down to the floor. Melkor sat back onto his throne, extending his arm to Sauron, and Sauron leaned onto his touch, curling onto his lap and reaching out for a hungry kiss.

They fucked, then, right in front of Celegorm’s eyes, making sure the elf watched. Humiliating the Son of Fëanor seemed to have lit a new kind of vigor within Melkor’s body, and his bond with Sauron burned brighter than ever before. Still, Celegorm was not allowed to come – all he could do was to watch and suffer.

Sauron pondered the elf’s fate afterwards, once he sat curled and sated in Melkor’s lap. His werewolves had started off the same – once sentient creatures with wills of their own, but slowly and surely bended to his will. This one had the makings of a good dog, although it was still too early to say, yet. The elf still panted with denied pleasure, but somewhere behind those green eyes Sauron thought he could see darkness, despair.

Whatever he truly felt, he however could not say. That part of him was gone now.

Amusing, really, Sauron thought, how easy minds were to break.

Celegorm’s body would be next.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated. ♥


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